


I'm Biting My Tongue (He's Kissing on You)

by miss_begonia



Category: Bandom, Glee, Glee RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Crossover Pairings, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-19
Updated: 2012-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-31 10:39:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_begonia/pseuds/miss_begonia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Oh, wow, okay</i>, Chris thinks, and sits up a little straighter in his chair. And hey, isn't straight a funny word to be using right now? Because Chris was fairly certain until about thirty seconds ago that both Darren and Brendon were straight, and now Darren looks like he's really intent on sucking on Brendon's tongue until Brendon can't speak or breathe or think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Biting My Tongue (He's Kissing on You)

**Author's Note:**

> ...idek.

_Oh, wow, okay_ , Chris thinks, and sits up a little straighter in his chair. And hey, isn't straight a funny word to be using right now? Because Chris was fairly certain until about thirty seconds ago that both Darren and Brendon were straight, and now Darren looks like he's really intent on sucking on Brendon's tongue until Brendon can't speak or breathe or think.  
  
Darren bites Brendon's lower lip, and when they separate Brendon's got this dark, hot look in his eyes that makes Chris's stomach twist up. His breath catches, and he squeezes the arm of the chair until his knuckles turn white.   
  
He doesn't even realize he's moving forward until the magazine slides out of his lap and onto the floor with a soft thump.  
  
They both turn to look at him, all flushed cheeks and messy hair, and this is - this is not how Chris thought this night was going to go. He'd considered the possibility that Darren and Brendon might  _sing_  together, but this is  _so. Much. Better._  
  
"Hey, Chris," Darren says. "You're awfully far away over there."  
  
Brendon licks his lips, and - Jesus. Is it Chris's birthday? It feels like his birthday, and maybe Christmas too. Nevermind that it's July.  
  
"You are, man," Brendon says. "C'mon, join us."  
  
Chris’s brain has no idea what’s going on right now, but his body must have some ideas, because he’s getting up and stumbling over to where Darren and Brendon are sitting on the couch. Darren’s hand presses into Brendon’s thigh, and he leans forward and takes Brendon’s lower lip between his teeth. Brendon shudders and melts into Darren, cupping his chin and licking into his mouth.  
  
Chris stops in front of them, uncertain of how to proceed. They don’t even pause, but Darren reaches out with his free hand and slides it over Chris’s ass, pulling him closer.  _Oh._  So Chris guesses he was serious about that invitation.  
  
“ _Fuck_ ,” Brendon breathes when he pulls back. Darren’s grinning like he’s won the sex lottery.   
  
Chris knows his eyes must be as big as dinner plates, because  _seriously_. Darren looks up at him from under his ridiculous eyelashes and bites his lip. His false innocence is just another come on, and God, like Darren even needs to try.   
  
Still, Chris is not willing to make the first move - he’s not entirely sure he’s awake right now. This feels like one of his really vivid (and filthy) Ambien-inspired dreams.  
  
“What are you waiting for?” Darren asks, getting up on his knees so he’s level with Chris. “God, do I have to do everything?”  
  
Darren threads his fingers through Chris’s belt loops and tugs him forward, and all of a sudden they’re kissing.   
  
Chris knows what it’s like to kiss Darren, sort of - twelve takes worth, anyway - but Darren as Blaine did not kiss him like this,  _holy shit_. Chris would not have made it through the day alive. Darren’s all about tongue and light nips of his teeth and pressure, and Chris feels like all the air’s been sucked out of his lungs.   
  
He knows he’s shaking a bit, but Darren is so steady beside him. He’s not pulling away. Chris can’t believe he’s not--  
  
“Damn,” Darren exhales as they separate to breathe. His eyes are near black, his cheeks even more pink. “You are so much hotter than you know, Chris.”  
  
Chris is so caught up in Darren and his growl-y voice and his fingers that have moved from his belt to his stomach, stroking under the edge of Chris’s t-shirt, that he actually starts when Brendon says, “Hey, so. I’m still here, guys.”  
  
Chris glances down to where Brendon is sprawled on the couch, his hair mussed from where Darren tugged his hand through it. His shirt is untucked from his pants and he’s got a smirk on his face that makes Chris want to do dirty things to his mouth.  
  
“You should kiss him, Brendon,” Darren says. “I recommend it.”  
  
Brendon blinks up at Chris, and okay, this is weird, because Brendon is basically a stranger, and just because he’s tipsy on Darren’s couch doesn’t mean--  
  
“You were so right,” Brendon says, his eyes bright with laughter. “He thinks too much.”  
  
“We should do something about that,” Darren says, the corner of his mouth teasing a smile.  
  
Chris swallows.  
  
He’s not sure what happens between him standing in front of the couch and him being flat on his back on the floor, but it is really hard to care about that lost time when Brendon is kissing him and Darren is licking at his neck.  
  
Brendon kisses differently than Darren, a little less teeth and confidence, but he’s sweet, stroking Chris’s cheek with his palm and making soft, happy sounds against Chris’s mouth. Meanwhile Darren is busy trailing kisses down over Chris’s collarbone, pausing to suck at the skin of his throat. Chris arches up with a groan, hand fluttering at his side, and Darren’s fingers slide between his, grasping and holding on.  
  
Chris could be scared, right now, of so many things - this could go the wrong way, either or both of them could lose interest, he could wake up any second alone in his apartment with sticky sheets.   
  
But he doesn’t know how to be afraid of Darren, even this new, more aggressive, decidedly more experimental Darren - because Darren is holding his hand.  
  
“He’s thinking again,” Darren whispers against Chris’s neck, and Brendon sits up, his eyes blurry. his lips are a dark red, parted as he struggles to breathe evenly, and god, Brendon is pretty.  
  
“What are you thinking about?” Brendon asks, cocking his head to one side, and Chris knows he must be the color of ripe strawberries. He’s never been very good at hiding his emotions.  
  
“Your mouth,” Chris whispers. “I want--”  
  
Brendon leans forward to kiss him again, but Darren stops him with a hand at the small of his back.  
  
“No,” Darren says. “I don’t think that’s what he means.”  
  
Realization flickers across Brendon’s face, and for a moment he looks embarrassed, which makes Chris feel like kind of an asshole.  
  
“I understand, Chris,” Darren murmurs, catching Chris’s gaze and holding it. “When I was kissing him I was thinking about him sucking my dick too.”  
  
Brendon closes his eyes, briefly, and wow, he is a picture. Tight jeans over lean hips, wrinkled band t-shirt riding up over his smooth stomach.  
  
“I’ll do it,” Brendon says, finally meeting Chris’s eyes. “But I want you to touch me.”  
  
He lifts Chris’s other hand, holding it up as if to inspect it. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to Chris’s palm, and Chris shivers.  
  
“You have nice hands,” Brendon says softly.  
  
Brendon licks across Chris’s palm, then flicks his tongue between Chris’s fingers, each in turn. It is one of the dirtiest things Chris has ever seen. He exhales a harsh breath.  
  
“Please,” Chris begs. His voice comes out lower than he expected, almost a growl.  
  
Brendon licks Chris’s pointer finger before sucking it into his mouth. Chris is suddenly incredibly aware of how hard he is. There’s been so much going on that he hasn’t had a chance to focus on anything, but God, he is so hard it hurts. It doesn’t help matters that Darren is watching them with glazed eyes, one of his hands sliding down over Chris’s stomach to cup him through his jeans.  
  
“ _Please_ ,” Chris tries again, and this time Darren listens, unzipping Chris’s jeans. Chris lifts his hips so Darren can wrestle Chris’s jeans down to his knees, and he’s still processing Brendon’s tongue tracing a line up over his thumb when Darren gets his hand into Chris’s boxers and pulls out his cock.  
  
“Oh my  _God_ ,” Chris yelps, and Darren laughs quietly, stroking him.  
  
“Brendon, stop being such a tease,” Darren orders him, and Brendon lets go of Chris’s now slick hand and shoots Darren a faux pissy look. Darren tugs Brendon forward by his t-shirt and kisses him hard, and yeah, Chris will never get tired of that visual, ever.  
  
Brendon’s unbuttoning his own jeans and tugging them down, exhaling with relief when he finally frees his cock. He crouches over Chris and without so much as a warning slides his mouth down over Chris’s dick, his lips meeting Darren’s hand at the base. Chris bites down on his own lip to keep from arching up and whimpers. He reaches out without thinking and curls his hand around Brendon’s dick, and Brendon shivers so hard Chris can  _feel_  it and  _oh. Oh._  
  
Then Darren is kissing him again, slow, deep kisses, tongue teasing his lips before diving inside. Chris tries to concentrate on giving Brendon a decent handjob, but it’s not easy, for fuck’s sake - Brendon is licking and sucking him and moaning every time Chris slides his hand up and down, and Darren is being - Christ -  _Darren_  and now he’s -  _fuck_  - touching himself through his jeans while he kisses Chris and -  _dammitshitfuck_  - Chris is not going to last long, not long at all.  
  
“I want you to swallow,” Darren tells Brendon in this low, impossibly calm voice, “so I can lick it out of your mouth after.”  
  
Chris means to warn Brendon, he does, but Darren can’t just say stuff like that. He comes with a shout. Brendon’s hips stutter, and then he’s gasping and coming too. When he pulls back Darren is on Brendon like white on rice, licking into his mouth and moaning, and fuck, Chris never needs to watch porn again. He has enough fantasy material for the rest of his life.  
  
And yet somehow, Darren is the only one of them still wearing all his clothes. That doesn’t seem right. Chris’s vision is a bit blurry and he can’t feel his toes, but he finds his way onto his knees, slipping a hand between Darren and Brendon’s bodies to palm Darren through his jeans.  
  
“ _Motherfucker_ ,” Darren groans.  
  
“Let me suck you,” Chris says.  
  
Darren just blinks at him, lifting his hand to trace Chris’s lips lightly with one finger.   
  
“Yeah,” Darren whispers. “Yes. Please. Yes, please.”  
  
Brendon is laughing at him, but Darren doesn’t care. Chris enjoys the way his eyes widen, pupils dilating, when Chris pushes Darren down onto the floor, strips open his jeans and pulls him out all over the course of a few seconds.  
  
Chris works off instinct and sound, two things he’s always felt go together. He licks across the head of Darren’s cock and relishes the choked moan he makes. For the first time this evening, Chris feels like he has the upper hand.  
  
“Like this,” Brendon says, and leans down to lick up the side of Darren’s cock.   
  
Darren groans like he’s dying when Chris and Brendon kiss around his cock, tongues stroking and tangling. They take turns, and for a few minutes Chris’s whole world is Darren’s hitching breaths and Brendon’s fingers along Chris’s cheek, guiding him.  
  
“Oh, God, oh, God,” Darren nearly sobs, and Chris pushes Brendon back so he can stroke Darren through it. He wants to watch the way his hips buck and his eyelashes flutter as he comes.  
  
In the moments after, their shared soundtrack is one of deep breaths and sighs. Darren blinks his eyes open and smiles at Chris, and all the anxiety curling in his stomach abates in that one moment.   
  
Nothing can go wrong when Darren is smiling.  
  
“So,” Darren says. “That happened.”  
  
“It really did,” Brendon says, huffing out a laugh. He’s lying on his back, arm thrown over his eyes.  
  
“Don’t overthink it, guys,” Chris says. “Thinking is  _so_  over-rated.”


End file.
